


Infinitesimal

by sailorcreampuff



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Character Development, Data is a good friend, Episode: s03e13 Deja Q, First Love, Guilt, In Character, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Q trying to be a good person, Redemption, Relationship Advice, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Therapy, lowkey autistic Q because I’m bad at writing non-autistic POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25375000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorcreampuff/pseuds/sailorcreampuff
Summary: Q, now powerless, has to deal with doing Human Things at the same time as he’s unraveling thousands of years’ worth of repressed emotions to try and be a better person. AU, set after Deja Q.
Relationships: Background Riker/Troi, Data & Q (Star Trek), Jean-Luc Picard/Q
Comments: 63
Kudos: 127





	1. Winner!

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had the idea of this fic in my mind, and not been able to find any that are quite how I imagine. My intention is to make this as in-character as possible while still having a romantic plot, which is a challenge I’m willing to accept.

It was... strange, that Q was gone. Picard stared at the main viewer, taking in the clear expanse of stars where an escape pod should have been. Perhaps if he had believed Q about being mortal from the start, things would have gone differently. Well, perhaps not that much differently. Even if he’d been more accommodating, the Calamarain still would have attacked, leading to the inevitable sacrifice and subsequent disappearance that was playing out before his very eyes.

-

“You and I both know that the Calamarain would have eventually destroyed the Enterprise to get to you. And that’s really why you left, right?”

Q’s face slowly lit up in a proud grin. “It was a teeny bit selfless, wasn’t it?”

The other Q groaned. “And there’s my problem! See, I can’t go back to the Continuum and tell them you committed a selfless act just before the end. If I do, there’s going to be _questions_ and _explanations_ for centuries.”

“I’ve learned my lesson, Q.”

“Remember who you’re talking to.” The other Q gestured towards himself. “All knowing, all seeing... See, in theory, I could give you your powers back.”

“Oh, would you?” The human Q begged.

“Mm, you know what, though? I think you like being with them. Humans. Maybe even better than you like being with us, am I right?”

“You couldn’t be further from the truth!” He protested. “You have no idea how much upkeep this annoying body requires! Eating, sleeping, brushing your teeth, it’s all so terrible!”

The other Q clicked his tongue. “I’ll cut you a deal. I’m gonna perform a minor miracle, alright? I’m bending the rules here, just got you. All those planets you’ve messed with in the past are gonna get a blank slate. Just try not to make any more enemies.”

“No, come on! I’d rather have my powers back and you know it! Why would you go through all this extra trouble just to make me unhappy, Q?”

He smiled. “You of all beings should understand. Because I just want to see what happens.”

-

“Well, I suppose that is the end of Q.” Picard said quietly, his mixed emotions settling into a stern veneer.

“Hey, now, let’s not make such tragic assumptions!” A poof of light temporarily obscured the room, and when it faded, both Q had appeared on the Bridge. “It’s my pleasure to announce that the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D has won the Q lottery. Here is your prize. Enjoy!”

The human Q glanced around, trying to gauge everyone’s reactions. The crew seemed shocked more than anything else. He couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

Commander Riker spoke first. “I don’t suppose we could take a cash prize instead?”

“Sorry,” The omnipotent Q smirked. “But I can tell you that you’ll be safe from any more attacks targeting him specifically. As far as the races he’s tormented know, he’s as dead as a doornail. So he’s got that going for him, as well as my word that he’s just as weak and powerless as you are now. I’d love to stay and make introductions, but I’ve got quite a bit to report already. Don’t forget to write!”

And just like that, the unfamiliar Q was gone, without so much as a snap of his fingers.

“At least they delivered him with clothes this time,” Riker snorted.

“Modesty,” Q huffed. “What a ridiculous concept.”

“Shall I escort him back to his cell for now, sir?” The Commander offered, ignoring Q.

Picard was rubbing his temples, as if he felt a strong headache coming on.

“...No, Number One, I don’t think that’s necessary anymore. Find an empty guest chamber to keep him in for now. I’ll need a bit of time before I can decide how to handle this. If you need me, I’ll be in my ready room.” Before entering the turbolift, he turned back around to add, “Mr. Data, you have the Bridge.”

Data nodded. After the Captain was gone, Q was ushered by Riker through a series of identical-looking dorm hallways until they came to a door at the very end of a narrow path. 

Riker unlocked the door by touch. Stepping inside, Q felt certain that more luxurious suites must have been available, but for once, he was wise enough not to complain. It was bigger than his holding cell, anyway. He sat down on the edge of his new bed, feeling a bit awkward.

“Comfortable?” Riker asked, clearly not out of kindness but procedure.

“Yes,” He responded meekly. “This works.”

“The computer’s here if you need anything.” Riker walked out, leaving Q alone with his thoughts.

He was still getting used to not sharing a hivemind of information with others– apparently, when humans forgot something, they had to look it up instead of simply consulting the entire sum of human knowledge via remote telepathy. It was largely inconvenient, and the lack of constant chatter in his mind was actually terrifying. He was isolated. Disconnected.

Suddenly it seemed foolish to have ever felt lonely in the past. At least then he could talk to the Continuum. He wouldn’t say they were _friends_ , necessarily, but they were always there, even in the background. It was only now that Q realized he was completely and utterly alone. The impressions he’d left on other species had been cleared. Back when he’d had godlike powers, he got attention, even if it was negative. But now that they were gone? He was a mere phantom, leaving no trace, no impression.

His eyes were stinging for some reason now. “Ow,” he said out loud, wondering if most humans still reacted verbally to pain when in private.

-

Q found himself floating somewhere. Somewhere bright, and peaceful. It didn’t occur to him to wonder how he got here, he simply enjoyed the feeling. It wasn’t overwhelming happiness, it was more like... contentment? Rays of light bathed him in a warm halo, and he wanted to bask in their glow forever.

But then he abruptly lost control and fell. He couldn’t see the ground, or make out any details, really, but he understood that he was falling. And as the world fell apart around him, the white backdrop fracturing into an all-consuming blackness, he tried to close his eyes, but couldn’t. He writhed around helplessly in the air, only stopping when something caught him by the hand.

Picard was pulling him up, and he was smiling– the most gentle expression he’d ever seen on the other man’s face. Just seeing it, he remembered how to float again. He drew in towards Picard, closer and closer until–

Until his eyes opened and he was back in bed. Q sat up quickly, disoriented. When had he gotten back here? What just happened?

“Where is Picard?” He asked the computer.

“Captain Picard is currently located in the ready room.”

“What do you mean, he’s in the ready room?”

He received no answer. He glared up at the ceiling. 

-

“It sounds as though you have had a dream,” Data later told him over drinks. Q had explained everything that happened to him, minus the weird affectionate parts. “I am curious as to what that experience is like.”

“Nothing you want to deal with, believe me,” Q scoffed. He took a sip, and his face twisted in disgust. “What is this?”

“I ordered a hot Earl Grey tea for you. It is the Captain’s personal favorite.”

“He has terrible taste. This is nothing like a chocolate sundae. I know that’s the only other food I’ve tried, but it’s way better.”

Data nodded sagely. “I cannot agree or disagree. Could I ask you another question on the topic of dreams?”

“Go ahead.”

“According to psychology, dreams that a person has may sometimes serve to relay a message, or reinforce a certain emotion of the dreamer. Analyzing this particular dream, it sounds as though you may be feeling out of control. Is this true?”

“You’re starting to sound an awful lot like your little Betazoid social worker.” Q sighed. “I won’t lie to you, Data. Of course I feel out of control. I’m not used to any of this. And why did nobody ever tell me that humans experience vivid hallucinations during deep sleep? Don’t those people have some kind of manual?”

“That sounds like it would be a helpful resource for both of us,” Data told him seriously.

It was hard to ever be frustrated with Data when everything he said was so genuine. He took another sip of tea, and was disappointed but not surprised to rediscover the same bitter flavor.

“You can order another drink.” Data suggested.

“Like what?”

“There are chocolate shakes. Quite similar to a sundae, but in liquid form.”

Q’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

Data looked almost pleased with himself. “It is the truth. One chocolate shake, please.”

It was the most amazing thing Q had ever tasted, which admittedly was not saying much. He had a stomachache later.

-

His later dreams were not quite as pleasant as before. Upon waking up, he found them difficult to describe and boring to most people who listened. The exception, of course, being Data, who listened with rapt interest about how he got stuck on a planet full of food that could talk.

Most people on the Enterprise seemed to avoid Q– which honestly didn’t bother him, seeing as he only truly liked two people on the entire ship at the moment. Still, he felt an odd sense of gratitude when people did approach him, even if it was only for inane conversations full of platitudes.

He was making his way back to his quarters when he wound up face-to-face with Picard.

“ _Mon capitaine._ ” He greeted. And if it was missing some of its usual playfulness, it had nothing to do with any confusing dream he’d had, no sir.

“Q.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve been wanting to speak with you. Follow me.”

“Am I in a dream right now?” Q questioned just to be sure.

Q’s lack of teasing when he asked seemed to embarrass the Captain more than when he _did_ tease him. How strange.

Picard coughed. “No, you are not... dreaming. This is a real conversation.”

“Ah, thank goodness.” He smiled in relief.

They entered the ready room. Q sat on top of the desk.

“Q, what exactly are your plans now?”

“Hm? Oh. I was thinking I’d try painting later. Believe it or not, Jean-Luc, I’ve made a real friend.” Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself by using that word, but he wanted to brag.

“I wasn’t referring to your plans for tonight. Who’s this friend of yours?”

Q grinned down at him with a smug expression. “It’s Data.”

Picard exhaled sharply through his nose.

“What?”

“Nothing. Commander Data is remarkably easy to get along with.”

Q suspected he was being insulted, but it was so subtle that he had no idea how.

Picard crossed his arms. “Never mind that. What sort of skill sets do you possess that might apply here on my ship?”

Q gasped. “Is this a job interview?”

“Something like that, I suppose.”

“But I’m so underdressed!” Q snapped his fingers with the intent to change into something more formal, then remembered he had to change clothes manually now like everyone else. “Hold on! I’ll be right back.”

Picard stood up, holding an arm out to stop him. “That won’t be necessary! Please, sit down... in the chair this time, if you would.”

“So that’s what these are for,” Q remarked, settling comfortably in the seat opposite Picard. To his delight, he found wheels attached to the bottom so one could spin around in place. He was about to give himself a good whirl, but reminded himself that unfortunately he must remain focused during his first job interview. “You asked about my qualifications?” He went on.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m an incredibly fast learner, I’ll have you know. Not that I’ll need to learn much with what’s already in here.” He tapped his forehead. “There’s no doubt your crew could learn a lot from my millennia of experience. There are few life-forms I wouldn’t recognize.”

Picard nodded. “I must admit, identification can be key in many of our missions when it comes to making contact with a new species. The more information we have on what it is we’re dealing with, the better we can prepare.” He looked thoughtful. “Now, your social skills, or lack thereof, are where the main problem arises.”

“Hmph. Nobody minds Data’s lack of social graces.”

His eyes darkened. “It would serve you well to treat Commander Data with respect, seeing as he is now your Commander as well. The difference between you two is that Mr. Data does not _provoke_ his co-workers. It is not a thing of being perfect, it is a thing of being polite.”

Q felt a surge of genuine humility. “...You’re right. I appreciate him a great deal, but having actual relationships is still so foreign to me.” He bowed his head slightly. “I can work on it, though. I will, you’ll see. I’ll be the sweetest employee you could ask for.” He winked, never wanting to stay serious for too long.

Picard seemed surprised. “Very well. I’ll go ahead and make provisions so that you may choose to work closely to him, since you seem to get along. Be ready tomorrow at 0700 hours for some hands-on training.”

“I got the job?”

Picard seemed exasperated, but not quite as irritated as usual. “It wasn’t a question of _if_ you’d work here so much as where. Casting you aside after everything that’s happened seemed... needlessly cruel.”

“Oh, Jean-Luc, I knew you cared.” Q was beaming.

“That’s ‘Captain’ to you, now.”

“So formal! But I suppose it _is_ important that humans keep things professional in the workplace, hm?” He batted his eyes innocently.

“Q.” Picard snapped.

The other man rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Very well. I’ll see you bright and early, then, _mon capitaine_!”

Q practically bounced back to his quarters, feeling light on his feet after such a successful interaction. He could _stay_! And the good Captain didn’t seem as grumpy as usual, even! He resolved to get plenty of rest that night, eager to prove himself come morning.


	2. Orientation

At 6:30 A.M., Q was woken up by an alarm for the first time in his extremely long life. The noise startled him, snapping him out of his dreams and back into reality. He deactivated it by keying something into the wall, and rubbed his eyes out of instinct. There was something in the corner of his eyelid that he rubbed out. It felt like a small rock... A grain of sand, perhaps? Humans produced so many disgusting substances that he couldn’t keep count.

He accessed his wardrobe and was overjoyed to find a real Starfleet uniform among the clothes he was provided with. A striking red one, just his size. Now these were colors that really suited him! He proudly put it on and made to exit the room.

Now that he thought about it, Picard wasn’t entirely specific about _where_ he should be at 0700 hours. He decided to simply wander around a few important places and figure it out.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to– someone was already standing outside his door.

“Hello, Q.” Data greeted him.

“Ah! Will I be training with my favorite mechanical man today?“

“You are to rotate between a series of positions on the ship and be evaluated based on performance, in order to determine how you can best serve Starfleet.”

“Am I starting with you first, then?”

“Yes.”

“Lead the way, Commander.”

Data raised an eyebrow at his title being used, but silently guided Q down to the engineering sector. Geordi was standing there, looking somewhat distrusting. Not that Q could really blame him for that, of course.

Geordi spoke with authority. “Alright, Q, I know you’ve been down here before, but the Enterprise is a one-of-a-kind ship. She needs special attention and maintenance in order to stay running at maximum efficiency.”

“Who’s ‘she’?” Q asked, perplexed.

“You know... the ship!” Geordi replied.

As if sensing his confusion, Data added, “Affectionately referring to starships and other vessels as ‘she’ and ‘her’ is often done to denote personal attachment. A loving anthropomorphization.”

Q nodded.

Geordi rubbed his palms together. “Right. Let’s get started.”

Q had to admit that while he was already familiar with most of the different parts of the ship, the complex way that they all came together was something to behold. Even in his limited form, he retained most of the information he learned. Exploring the different parts of the engineering sector quickly made him realize how dangerous the job was; he would never admit it, but he felt a new respect towards the crew for doing all this even despite their mortality. Under Geordi’s supervision, Q was able to adequately keep things in check, but the work bored him. It was all so objective, with little room for creative flair! What ever happened to designing whole planets out of thin air?

“Given my options, I think I’d be better off somewhere else.” Q explained.

Geordi hummed and nodded in agreement. Under other circumstances, this action would have filled Q with spite and the resolve to be the _best_ engineer on the entire ship– but for some reason, he was just tired.

Next on his agenda was the educational sector, which he grew weary of even faster than engineering. These textbooks were all _wrong,_ but he was unable to present any evidence to prove it. Honestly, though, why would anyone seriously believe Gamma II only had three moons? (Not to mention the fact that most children seemed to hate him, anyway.)

After that, he had to pay a visit to Counselor Troi.

Something about her demeanor was actually very soothing. She had a radiant sort of beauty that put people at ease. _I should have made my form look more like this,_ Q silently lamented.

“Come sit down.” She offered. “This evaluation is mostly going to be for gauging your emotional state, but the ship could use another psychologist if you find that you enjoy this kind of work.”

Apprehensive, he sat down on a soft couch adjacent to Deanna’s chair, cross-legged.

“Do you have any concerns before we get started?”

Q snorted. “No, I’m not worried.”

“Keep in mind that anything you share with me will be kept secret, unless it poses a definite threat towards yourself or others.”

“Yes, yes, I know, go on.”

This was feeling way too mystical for Q. Even if he knew that the Betazoid’s powers were as real as his own once were, he felt like he was getting his fortune told at a carnival. Troi closed her eyes, gently probing his mind. Strange that he couldn’t feel it happening.

“You are experiencing... very intense emotions. Things that could only be felt by such an ancient entity.”

“Well, you know me. Always with the feelings,” He quipped, but it didn't have his usual confidence.

“I’m sensing a great deal of anxiety, which I expected. But also...” Her face contorted as if in pain. “Loneliness.”

“Do you now?” Q was trying his best to keep his voice from shaking.

“You feel such overwhelming guilt. It’s nearly impossible to bear... And yet you never show it. Why?”

He was digging his nails into where they rested at his sides. “Because it isn’t important. Nobody I’ve hurt in the past would care if I apologized, because the damage has been done. So I just. Don’t care.”

“You want to get close to others...”

“I don’t. Not with humans, anyway, a Q doesn’t need relationships or attention of any kind.”

“That isn’t true. You were different from them.”

“I’m done talking about this now.” He stood up quickly.

“Q, please, wait. I want to help.” She pleaded.

“I don’t _need_ help. I’m going to deal with things independently, the way I have for thousands of years. I don’t need a mortal like you to tell me how I’m feeling!” He escaped as quickly as he could, making his way back to his quarters. The rest of his training would have to wait. He needed to be alone as soon as possible.

Once he was safely inside his room, he gasped out a sharp breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. _Okay. Something... unfavorable just happened. Let’s go over it and figure things out._ He laid down on his bed, looking up at the nondescript ceiling.

First off. He needed to remember that the only reason he was being allowed to stay here was because of the usefulness he provided to the ship. He already arrived here in a pathetic fashion after being cast out from his own kind– nobody needed to know even more of the imperfections he’d had as a Q. Being seen as a cruel tormentor suited him much better than any other reason he may have had for getting kicked out.

Feelings weren’t exactly disallowed in the Continuum, not really. But developing strong feelings was laughable, especially for lower life forms. His brothers and sisters thought it was just _hilarious_ that he was always seeking out attention. It was a defect. Pity was the most common and appropriate reaction to less intelligent species, and here Q was, trying to get to know them better. 

He learned to be tricky. He focused his desires in the opposite direction. He wasn’t the weakest Q– he was the most ruthless of them all. He inspired fear everywhere he went, doing anything and everything to make himself _remembered_. (Still, he shied away from putting creatures into life-threatening situations. That would not have been allowed under most circumstances. No matter.)

He was human now. Humans were... different. They encouraged all these weak emotions. It was too bad he didn’t deserve them. And he _didn’t_ need anyone to take pity on him and destroy what little pride he had left.

Q stayed in his quarters for the rest of the day, and surprisingly, nobody came to disturb him. He wondered why he found that a little disappointing, when he conversely wished for it.

He spent some time asking the computer for information about human daily schedules, and learned that he should take a bath. Showers could also get one clean, according to his research, but a bath sounded far less uncomfortable. He resolved to fill his tub with water and give himself a good scrub.

He did not anticipate what a heavenly feeling it was to be submerged in warm water. _Humans and their simple pleasures._ He could have fallen asleep right there, but he found a washcloth and used it to bathe himself to the best of his ability. He was unsure what the end result was supposed to look like, exactly, but he felt nice and fresh.

Now what? _What did humans do for fun?_ He pondered. He was tempted to go bother Captain Picard, but then he might be faced with a conversation he wasn’t ready to have yet. Troi had probably told him about their conversation by now.

The Holodeck. Yes! That was where most Starfleet officers seemed to spend their recreational time. Even better, it might give him a taste of omnipotence again.

He made a beeline for the closest available Holodeck room, eagerly anticipating the feeling of creating something again. What sort of world would he build today?

“Earth, San Francisco, 1950’s,” He told the computer. Those should be enough parameters to have fun with.

The atmosphere around him changed to that of a bustling ancient Earth city. A few “people” passing by stared at his uniform, and Q silently told himself to bring more period-accurate attire next time. He made his way through the busy streets, ducking to avoid bumping into anyone.

He passed a few shop windows, and paused when he found one that caught his eye. He slipped inside.

It was a small, dingy café, and it felt so _authentic_. Most of its patrons looked to be young adults, none older than 40. In that regard, he felt a little out of place, but nobody was looking at him. They were watching a poet read something on a stage towards the back of the room.

She was illuminated by a spotlight, reading a handwritten piece and enunciating her words with dramatic gestures and expressions.

Truth be told, human history really wasn’t so bad. Q just didn’t understand why it was their wars that ended up being remembered and taught in classes instead of peaceful moments like this.

He might as well order something, he figured, so he got a coffee. Remembering how gross the tea was that he’d tried yesterday, he put ten sugar cubes in his mug and requested a bit of milk. Mm, it was much better when the strong bitterness was balanced with plenty of sweetness. _People should use sugar in everything,_ he mused to himself.

He was so caught up in the experience that he didn’t even notice when somebody else entered the café until they were sliding in the chair next to him.

Q jumped. It was only Data.

“Did I startle you, Q?”

“No,” He lied. “But– what are you doing here?”

“I attempted to contact you from outside, but there was no response. In that circumstance, it is my duty to check on you.”

“Well, here I am. As you can see, I’m doing fine.” There was the silent implication that it was time for Data to leave him alone. The android didn’t pick up on it.

“My reports indicate that you did not complete your training today.”

Q rested his chin on the table. “I haven’t been having a very good day.”

Data frowned. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Q shook his head from his sulking position. Data sat next to him from a respectable distance and simply watched him.

“I can continue with my training tomorrow. I need to take care of something, but I don’t know what.”

Data tilted his head to the side imploringly.

Q shrugged. “Being human is still so strange. I want something, but I have no idea what that is. Sometimes it even feels like I want different things. That should be impossible.”

“I believe it is normal for humans to have ‘mixed feelings’.”

“Hm. And I _am_ human, aren’t I? ...Maybe I’m more like a child.”

-

Dreams could be terrifying, too. As if falling asleep wasn’t scary enough, now Q had to worry about his dreams, too? It was all sort of mashed together, but he recalled a distinct moment where he was the only living thing left in the universe.

He’d outlived everything else. There was nothing left. Even the other Q had somehow perished, and now it was just him in this completely empty space. There was nothing, and he was nobody.

His alarm saved him. It was time to get to work. He never thought that being mortal would bring any comfort, but it did now; nothing was going to last forever, and he didn’t want to.

He was to report to the medical lab. That sounded easy enough for now.

-

“You need to start eating different kinds of foods,” was Dr. Crusher’s main consensus.

The annoying thing about human bodies was that not only did they have to be fed, but they required a variety of several different vitamins to work properly.

“But that’s so inconvenient!” He whined.

The doctor rolled her eyes. “I would recommend you start taking vitamins every day. That would give you a little more freedom in choosing what you eat. But no human can survive on only ice cream!”

Q groaned. He was given a pamphlet on the seven different food groups and sent to help out in the lab for a while.

It didn’t go nearly as bad as it could have gone, really. It was similar to engineering in the problem-solving aspect, but he got to interact with more people. It seemed like more people were warming up to him being on the Enterprise, which was pleasing. He was even praised for a job well done at one point.

With giddy excitement, he tackled his next assignment– security. If nothing else, he was great at telling the officers exactly what the security team was _lacking_ , and how easy it might be to bypass all their measures if he’d still had his powers. They didn’t seem to appreciate his criticism, oddly enough. People on this ship took things way too seriously.

Admittedly, Q didn’t provide much of a physical threat either, unless one counted threatening personal space. He was tall for a human, maybe even taller than Riker (he couldn’t tell), but that was about all he had in the intimidation department.

-

After testing out many different things at many different stations, Q came to the conclusion that while he was knowledgeable, he was not particularly talented.

His communicator beeped ( _his_ communicator– how exciting) and he received a message from the Captain.

“Q. Report to my ready room as soon as possible. Picard out.”


	3. Break

“Jean-Lu– I mean, oh Captain, my Captain!” Q bowed dramatically. “You wanted to see me?”

“Indeed. We need to discuss your placement.”

Q sat down in the chair this time, but backwards in the seat.

“And?” Q prompted.

“Let me preface this by asking which station you preferred the most.”

“Hmmm,” Q pondered, looking up at the ceiling and stroking his chin. “The medical lab wasn’t so bad. The good doctor tolerated me, so I was able to help out without anyone getting in my way.”

“I see,” Picard nodded, “And I take it things with Counselor Troi did not go well?”

Q’s eyes widened. “She told you what happened?” He asked, starting to panic.

“No, Q, she doesn’t share the personal details of her crew-mates with me. She merely seemed worried. Is... anything the matter?”

Q looked away. “No. I just don’t appreciate people prying their way into my personal business, that’s all.”

“The Counselor is not here to pry,” Picard responded, “But I find visits with her to be extremely beneficial for my crew. I highly recommend going back and seeing her again. She’s assisted me with personal troubles more than once.”

“Even you?” Q was baffled by this admission of weakness.

“Even me,” Picard confirmed. “You don’t have to tell her everything, but again. I suggest you consult her once more.”

“I can try,” Q swallowed.

When Picard wasn’t annoyed with him, things suddenly felt incredibly weird for Q. He was used to their conversations being a lot more one-sided in how deep they were. And then for some reason he remembered how it felt in his dream to hold hands, intertwining their fingers together. He was 90% sure people actually did that and 0% sure that he should do it right now. He frowned.

“Um... Captain,” he spoke up awkwardly.

The other man looked at him, waiting for him to continue. Looking directly at him made Q feel sort of nauseous, so he looked away. He didn’t even know what else he had planned to say. He was desperately trying to find something to talk about, anything, but his body was not cooperating. Was this fear? If so, fear over _what?_

“I’m... Ahaha. Thanks for the conversation.”

Q was failing this social interaction big-time now and he knew it, which only made him more anxious.

Poor Picard looked lost. “Er, yes. Anytime. But there’s still the matter of where you are going to be working.”

“Yes, yes. I can work anywhere, really!” He finally remembered what his personality was supposed to be.

“No preference?” Picard raised a brow.

“I liked the medical lab, so I could give that a try, but I don’t really care where you put me.” _Please just let me exit this conversation._

“Hm. Medical lab it is. I’ll inform Dr. Crusher.”

“OkayThenBye,” Q blurted, walking briskly out of the room. Maybe he should get himself re-examined after all. He felt weak.

He walked past a series of assistants trying to tell him the Doctor was busy, but this was clearly an emergency that warranted her immediate attention.

“Doctor!” He cried, entering her private office. “I feel terribly ill!”

She looked genuinely concerned.

“Where, Q? What’s wrong?”

“I, I feel...” He tried to name his symptoms, but the only thing he still felt was a terrible stomachache. “I feel nauseous. But– well that’s odd, I felt much worse a moment ago...”

She sighed. “Have you been eating too many sweets again?”

“No, no! I was suddenly overcome with a fever! And my body wasn’t listening to the commands from my brain to make it move, or talk. I was producing that... gross water from my skin.”

“Sweat?” She asked, incredulous.

“Yes, that.”

“Well this isn’t really my department, but it sounds like more of a psychological thing to me. Have you tried-“

“Yes, I have tried talking to Counselor Troi!” He growled. “Well, maybe not about this specific thing, but!”

Beverly glared at him.

“If you talk to Counselor Troi and she can’t figure out what’s going on, then I can run some tests. But right now, I’m extremely busy.“ She told him, more than a little annoyed. “So if you don’t mind leaving, I’d like to get some work done.”

He was escorted back into the hallway rather unceremoniously. He’d been escorted way more roughly by others on the ship before, though, so he couldn’t be too unhappy.

“I can find my own way out, you know!” He called back anyway.

Talking to Counselor Troi still did not sound appealing in the least, so he decided to try other methods for settling an upset stomach. Sipping on Sprite in the quiet of his own room seemed to be working wonders. See, he didn’t need anyone’s help!

Still, he wondered about his sudden onslaught of discomfort earlier. He was pretty sure it was just because he was talking to Picard, which is strange because he’d _done_ that before! Being human was proving to curse him with all kinds of new experiences.

He felt something. An emotion that had been there lying dormant ever since he’d decided to stop the Enterprise in its tracks and put the human race on trial. No... a little after that. Something was beginning to take shape, and it was especially harder to ignore in this new human form. Q couldn’t dare confront it, or even name it. For now, it was just his Thing. His weird Thing with Picard that would eventually go away if he could just stop feeling it for a while... what a useless sensation. What sense did it make for someone to make you feel physically ill unless you hated them? Q was not going to examine this. He would simply not think about it, and things would keep running smoothly.

Well, no more of that! Since when did he get so mopey, anyway? He shook himself like a dog after a bath in the hopes that it would also shake his negativity. To his surprise, it kind of worked.

When Q got bored, as he often did whenever he went over 5 seconds without stimulus, he checked the time and remembered that painting class was starting soon. He’d been pretty interested, and he knew Data would be there, so he decided to go.

“Art” turned out to be pretty fun. He was used to working with a variety of mediums on a much larger scale, of course, but perhaps that’s what made painting an enjoyable challenge for Q. Even with limitations, he managed to produce something pretty nice, if he did say so himself. Data walked over to look at his work.

“Well?” Q smiled, fishing for compliments.

“Very unique style. A truly abstract post-modern piece, with your brushstrokes indicating a subtle yet effective technique. This showcases great skill.” Data praised him.

“Aw, you think so?” Q was beaming from ear to ear. “That means a lot coming from someone with such a sophisticated eye for beauty!” It sounded sarcastic, but it wasn’t supposed to be. Data seemed to understand.

“Indubitably,” he agreed.

“Is everyone else’s art as much a masterpiece as ours is?”

“You have not seen mine yet,” Data reminded him.

“True, but I’ve got a good imagination. Go on, show me yours.”

Data’s painting employed much technical mastery. Done in a true realist style, Q could scarcely tell the difference between it and a photograph.

“What did I tell you?” Q said proudly, hands on his hips. “It’s very well done.”

“Thank you, Q.” Data seemed pleased.

For someone who insisted he had no emotions, Q could swear he caught Data showing them from time to time. Maybe he just didn’t think he had emotions because he felt things differently. In that respect, they had a lot in common.

“Allow me to show you some of the others’. I believe you will find it most enlightening.”

“But of course, Commander Data.”

At the back of the room was a glass case containing many different works from crew members spanning a few years. They all appeared to be recipients of artistic awards, hence their place on display.

“This one was painted by a cadet named Michelle after she gave birth to her first child,” Data explained, pointing to one of them. “It is a self-portrait of mother and child.”

“Interesting,” Q said politely.

“I, too, have been considering having a child of my own.”

Q nearly choked. _“You?”_

“Yes. Through careful artificial construction.”

“I mean... I would love to see that.”

“Which one catches your eye, Q? The paintings.”

Q gave them another once-over and was drawn to a peaceful-looking one. He understood that these were depictions of angels, common figures in some human religions. The winged figures stood gracefully with their hands clasped and their eyes closed.

“What’s this one?” He asked Data.

Data looked uncomfortable. “It is called Memoriam. It was created to honor the 18 crew members that were lost during our first contact with the Borg.”

Q went white. “...Ah.” He felt dizzy.

“Q?”

“I– huh?”

“Could it be that you are experiencing g–“

Q shushed him, clamoring to cover his mouth before realizing it wasn’t necessary.

“Can we not talk about this here?” He hissed.

Data blinked at him, as if considering something. “I am unsure of how to provide support at this time.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need support! Why does everybody keep acting like I do?” His voice raised a bit against his wishes.

“I suggest you speak with–“

“Stop it! I am _not_ speaking to Counselor Troi! I’m not going to let you people treat me like some poor lost cause!”

“Q?”

“I’m sick of hearing about what my feelings are from everyone else! You have no idea how lucky you are not to have them! I should’ve chosen to be an android instead!”

“Q. Please lower your voice to an appropriate volume for this setting.”

The entire room was staring at him now, their eyes boring into him. The shame rising within him was more intense than anything he’d ever experienced. He looked more immature and pathetic than ever. His eyes started to feel wet.

“I will escort you elsewhere.” Data told him.

Q was too stunned to do anything but follow him without another word.

-

“Come in,” A female voice came from the other side of the door.

Q snapped out of his disoriented state and realized they were outside the one place he had been trying to avoid. Dread settled at the pit of his stomach.

At the sight of the two men, Counselor Troi’s eyebrows knitted with worry.

“I’d really rather not do this, Data,” Q mumbled, in a voice so small it couldn’t possibly have been his own.

“You don’t have to talk about anything,” Troi promised. “Please, just sit down.”

He obliged, curling his knees up to his chest in a ball on the couch.

“Good. Now, deep breaths, please. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

“What are you...?” Q trailed off.

“This should help calm you down. Take four seconds to inhale through your nose, hold your breath for 7, and then exhale to the count of 8. Could you do this a few times?”

He figured it couldn’t hurt anything to try, so he did it. In, hold, out, in, hold, out. He was still shaking like a leaf, but breathing was coming easier to him now. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

“Would you like to talk about what happened?”

“No,” Q said quickly, his expression pleading.

“Okay. Would you let me talk to Data about what happened? We can do it in the other room.”

“...That sounds fine.” He murmured.

He waited for a few moments while the two had a short discussion just out of earshot, all the while counting his breaths. This was stupid. Nobody should be this worried about him. But the thing was, he was out of energy to resist letting himself be helped. Funny how humans work.

Counselor Troi and Commander Data emerged from the other room. Troi seemed to be thinking carefully about what to say next.

“I’m sorry that I upset you last time, Q.” She said finally, gently.

“Why would you... Why are you helping me?” He felt something wet on his cheeks. Ah, so these were tears. He was well and truly crying at last.

She sat down slowly, moving the way one might with a frightened animal. “Because I do not believe in revenge. I do not believe the suffering of any living creature to be just.”

“But that’s exactly what I _did_!” Q exclaimed. “I caused everyone here to suffer...!”

She looked off, into some unknown point in the distance. “Why?” She questioned. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I...! I don’t know!”

“Were you angry at us? At the Captain?”

“No...”

“Did you just want to see us suffer? Did you find it funny?”

“No, no–“

“Then why did you do what you did?”

“ _Because it wasn’t supposed to happen that way!_ ” He admitted, to himself as much as the Counselor. “The Borg was already targeting you, they were on their way. They still are! I wanted to warn you! I...”

The Counselor stared at him in disbelief. “You were helping? Why didn’t you tell us that?”

“You could never know. It was wrong. My feelings are all wrong, and now there’s actually blood on my hands because of it.” He paused, taking a breath. “I thought you were all too arrogant. I could see the incoming threat and I didn’t think you were prepared, so I tried to join your crew.”

“At the time, it seemed like you were more desperate to be told that you were needed,” Troi reasoned.

“Well... that too. Millions of years exploring this endless universe, and nobody ever really cared. You humans seemed so _soft,_ I thought I could make you care no matter what. But I was wrong.” He blinked, more tears spilling from his eyes. “All I do is cause pain, even when I don’t mean to. And I’ll never forgive myself.”

His body shook uncontrollably, his breath coming in shuddered gasps. If it had taken this admission for everyone to finally realize how weak he was and leave him alone, it was worth it. He was the lowest of the low.

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch. He glanced up. Counselor Troi was tracing circles with her thumb, rubbing it in smooth patterns. It felt so warm and kind.

“I believe you,” She assured him. “It’s okay.”

Nobody had ever touched him so softly. It calmed Q down almost instantly, soothing him from utter anguish into a more melancholy state. He sniffled, and Data appeared at his side with a tissue.

“What do I do now?” Q asked, after some time had passed. “I can’t undo what I’ve done. It didn’t even seem so bad at the time, which makes it all the more twisted. But now that I’m human, I think I understand it. The value of even a single life.”

“If I may speak, Counselor?” Data queried.

“Of course.”

“I have observed that it is more productive when people focus on the future, rather than the past, as only one of these is something that can be controlled. I see no reason why you could not start attempting to be better now.“ He glanced at Deanna for guidance.

She smiled. “Commander Data is right. I don’t think you’re as bad as you think you are, either. If you really wanted to, you could’ve destroyed this ship and everyone on it at any given moment. ...But you never did. You just wanted an excuse to see us.”

Q averted his eyes, not confirming or denying the statement, and she chuckled good-naturedly.

“I think you’re going to be just fine, Q. Why don’t you go wash your face?”


	4. Progress

Q felt embarrassed. He’d had a– what was it called?– a breakdown? Yes, that. Although it didn’t go as poorly as it could have, he didn’t care to repeat the experience, and so he agreed at last to weekly visits with Counselor Troi. Now that he was settling into his first day at the medical lab, he had some time to reflect.

Not everyone was as open and accepting as she was. Q knew that. In fact, there were certain crew members that made it impossible to forget.

_ William Riker… He’s not still mad that I tried to give him unlimited power, is he? That was his call! _

Every time they passed in the halls, Riker had a look on his face like he’d just stepped in something awful. Maybe if it had been someone else, Q might have felt bad, but he  _ knew  _ Riker. Riker was just a dick.

Q spun around in his chair for the fiftieth time. He assumed with his impressive experience that he’d start out somewhere a bit higher on the ladder than being a receptionist, so there really wasn’t much to keep him stimulated besides occasionally hunting for documents.

Oh, he was so unused to keeping himself entertained without powers. If humans didn’t keel constantly keel over from boredom at work, he knew there must be some way they got through it. His stomach growled.  _ Why must my body need  _ constant  _ attention _ ?

He grumbled nonsense under his breath, pushing himself up from his seat. His legs hurt even though he’d been sitting down all morning, like they were stiff and aching. Q thought wearily that it was supposed to be moving limbs that made them sore, not keeping them still. Maybe something was wrong with him.

A sharp pang in his stomach. “Ow,” He said aloud, as he always did. He made his way to Dr. Crusher’s office to see her. This time, he remembered to signal his arrival with the little button.

“Come in,” She spoke up from the other side.

He walked right in. “I’m hungry,” He complained.

“Is this your way of asking for a break?” She rolled her eyes.

He thought for a moment. “Yes.”

“Alright then, go ahead and grab something to eat from the break room. There’s a replicator in there.”

Q nodded and went to the designated room, where there was a series of spacious tables and silly posters on the walls. He tapped his chin. Data wasn’t here to tell him what to eat, so how could Q know what he wanted?

There were a few other officers in the break room, so he stole glances at them to check out what they were eating.

“Ham sandwich,” He told the computer with finality. “Add plenty of lettuce, and other… healthy things.”

Pleased with himself, he went to an empty table and silently ate. It wasn’t a fantastic meal, but apparently healthy meals rarely were. What a bothersome contradiction. As he was polishing off the rest of his sandwich, his communicator beeped.

“Mr. Q.” It was Captain Picard. “Please come to the bridge immediately.”

“I’ll be right there,” He replied with his mouth full.

Scrambling to discard his leftovers, he made a beeline for the turbolift. Now, this was more like it! Any questions the Captain had, he could surely answer. He strutted confidently onto the Bridge.

“What’s the situation?” Q folded his arms behind his back in an attempt to appear professional, but it probably came off more as mocking.

Picard turned to face him. “Our scanners have picked up life signs on this planet in a system we’ve previously believed to be entirely uninhabited.”

“Oh?”

“We call it Koralis IX. Ensign Crusher, visual on screen.”

The planet looked familiar to Q. It was vast and appeared to be mostly gas on the surface, with angry swirling clouds that suggested constant thunderstorms. It was an unusual deep purple color.

“Let’s see…” Q murmured. “Oh, yes! I’ve seen this place before, but it was a while ago.”

“How long is ‘a while ago’?” Picard queried.

“Hmm… Now, if I remember correctly, it’s been about, oh… 8,000 years?” Q struggled to retrieve the information from his mind. “When I last visited, I think there were a few single-cell organisms that had evolved here. Not much interesting here, if you ask me.”

Riker piped in. “We’re not. We’re asking if you  _ know  _ anything that might be useful.”

“Hmph. Well…” He turned to Counselor Troi. “I’m not entirely sure how your powers work, but do you sense any presences? Beings of any kind?”

“Actually, no,” She informed him. “It’s strange, but I’m not getting anything. They may be too far away.”

Q cocked his head to the side. “But can’t you usually detect these things, even from distances like these?”

“We’ve tried that,” Riker interjected. “What are your ideas, Q?”

“So impatient. What, Commander, are you worried about missing one of your little trumpet lessons?”

“Q!” Picard snapped. “You will not speak to your First Officer that way.”

“...It’s a  _ trombone, _ ” Riker grumbled. He then added, much more frighteningly, “And I’ve been meaning to talk to you. But we can do that after you’ve figured this out.”

Q swallowed. Right. He could be helpful. “Don’t worry.” He put his hands on his hips in mock confidence. “Your mission is in my capable hands!”

This did not seem to make anyone feel better. Fair enough.

Q cleared his throat. “Right. So, the scanners are able to detect these things, but the Counselor isn’t. Are there any substances on the planet that might inhibit her abilities?”

Data piped in. “There are none present that we know of.”

“And beaming down would be impossible, right? Doesn’t seem like human-friendly terrain,” Q thought out loud. “Wait a minute!”

“Yes?” Picard prompted.

“Even though it’s a gassy planet, it still has a solid mantle! Think about it. These creatures could live underground! With enough advanced technology, even you could adapt to such a hostile environment!”

Picard looked impressed.

“I remember now… these creatures, they must have evolved from the others. And those beings were unique– their main source of energy was sound. With so much lightning, they must be thriving!”

“Thank you, Mr. Q. Good work,” Picard complimented him. “Our next step shall be establishing communications.”

Q’s face felt warm from the praise, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Aw, it was nothing.”

-

Q was dismissed shortly afterwards. He thought that went pretty well! Had Picard’s eyes always been so pretty? It was a lucky thing that they’d both had their eyes on the screen for most of it, and were standing at a respectable distance. Otherwise, Q probably would have embarrassed himself again.

Staying away from the Captain seemed like a reasonable course of action, given that the closer he was in proximity, the more likely Q was to fail. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to avoid the man. Picard was good company, even if he did somehow make Q nervous. Perhaps humans had some subtle psychological powers, even the Captain didn’t seem to affect anyone else on the ship this way– he knew what this  _ sounded  _ like, of course, but it wasn’t like that. Q didn’t feel those things.

He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn’t notice someone was right behind him. As soon as he noticed Commander Riker approaching him from nearby, he startled.

“I need to have a word with you, Q.”

“Commander! I didn’t see you there.” He laughed awkwardly. “What is it you need?”

Riker was tall, but Q took some minor comfort in the fact that he was just slightly taller.

“Frankly, I need you to understand that I don’t trust you.”

“Really, now?” Q retorted. This wasn’t exactly news to him. “Well, your precious Captain seems to trust me. Don’t tell me that isn’t enough for you?”

Riker narrowed his eyes. “It is. That’s why you’re here on the Enterprise instead of in an intergalactic jail cell. But if you make one wrong move, or do  _ anything _ to threaten a member of this ship, you’ll be gone. We don’t  _ need  _ you like you need us anymore.”

“Oh, I promise I’ll be good. You’ll see!” He chirped. “Really now, Commander, you worry too much.”

He breezed back off towards his quarters, carefully hiding any signs of fear. He wasn’t going to give Riker the satisfaction of intimidating him. Because truth be told, he  _ was  _ a little intimidated.

-

Q nervously approached the ready room, hesitating before pushing the button.

Picard said “come”, so he went inside.

He glanced up from his work. “Q? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk about this new job situation.”

“Go ahead, then.”

He slumped his shoulders a bit. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this kind of work.”

Picard furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about? You’re admitting that there’s something even you can’t do?”

“I suppose you could put it like that…”

“You did fine work on the bridge.”

“It’s not that. It’s the medical lab. It’s exhausting!”

“Oh?”

“How do you people keep yourselves entertained all day with just your thoughts?”

Was that almost a smile on Picard’s face? “Well, Q, typically we just remain focused on our tasks without allowing our minds to wander.”

“How terribly boring.”

“If you don’t enjoy it, you don’t have to stay there. Still, I’d give it a few days before making any decisions.”

“...I want to be on the bridge.”

“I know.” Picard seemed to find this all amusing somehow.

His reaction flustered Q. “What do you mean, you know? I am unknowable.”

“On the contrary. You’re quite transparent. I’m sure you’ll end up there in due time, but for now, I’d like to keep seeing how you perform in this environment.”

“Wha– I– transparent!” Q spluttered. “Of all the people that make fun of me, I never thought you would be one of them, Picard. For shame.”

“You’ll survive it. Did you need anything else?”

Q wanted to keep talking, since things were going so well this time. Surely he could think of something.

“What foods do you like?” Was what he blurted out. Not the most relevant inquiry.

Picard blinked in surprise. “I… am partial to many things. I like to eat croissants in the mornings.”

Q nodded. “How cultured.”

“Beverly makes me try a variety of foods from different cultures, but I’ll eat anything with a rich flavor.”

“Beverly?”

“Ah, Dr. Crusher, I mean.”

Q felt weird, so it was time to go.

“Well,  _ mon capitaine,  _ I’m afraid it’s time for my beauty sleep. And as much as I enjoy these little chats of ours, I have to wake up early now. But save some of your Shakespeare quotes for me next time; it’d be so nostalgic.”

With a flourish, he exited into the hallway, then immediately started analyzing his feelings. Ugh, not more feelings again.

This one felt shameful, and cowardly. Q believed it came from his perceived notion of how close the Captain was to the Doctor, which had absolutely no reason to bother him. But he felt envy anyway. This was why he was so terrible at being human.

He needed a chocolate sundae.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one’s a bit shorter than usual, but I hope you enjoy the update!


	5. Crush

As it turns out, Jean-Luc was right about what he said the other night. Croissants were, in fact, delicious, and so Q ate three of them that morning before his appointment with the Counselor. They had the most delightful texture.

“Counselor,” Q announced, “I am here. Has it been a week since our encounter already?”

“No, Q, but we did agree to meet on Sundays.”

“Right. Still getting used to caring about time.” He sat down on the same sofa he did last time. “I am ready to talk about feelings now.”

Troi’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “That’s a good attitude to have. Before I ask any questions, is there anything you wanted to talk about in particular?”

“Hmm…” Q considered it for a moment. “Maybe. Is it common for humans to like someone while also being scared of them?”

“It depends on the situation, but I’d say yes. Is there anyone in particular making you feel this way?” She prodded.

“Yes. But it’s a secret.”

“I see. Well, does it seem like they’re trying to scare you, or do you just get nervous around them?”

Q shifted in his seat. “It’s the second thing.”

“Well, Q, it’s normal to feel anxious, especially when you want to impress someone. You’ve been under a lot of pressure.”

“Really?” Q asked.

“Of course. Everyone experiences these things.” She assured him.

“So it’s not weird!” He exclaimed with relief.

“Not at all. Now, I wanted to discuss with you a little about what happened last time…”

He winced.

“We don’t have to, of course, but I’m personally interested in the Borg incident.”

“They’re still coming.” Q hissed. “I couldn’t interfere with the war itself, but if I framed it as just me being pathetic again, I could get away with a slap on the wrist… of course, that’s part of why I’m human now. Punishment for attempting to interfere.”

“War?” Troi looked worried. “What war, Q?”

“I’m omnipotent, remember? I can’t exactly know the future, but I can make pretty good guesses. I’m assuming the Federation has been looking into the Borg more ever since I forced your first contact. You  _ have  _ been taking it more seriously, right? I just assumed–“

“Yes, Q, we have. We’re doing everything we can to make sure we’re ready.”

Q sighed. “Good. If you don’t take it very seriously, then Jean-Luc…” He trailed off. “I can’t talk about it. I might get in even more trouble.”

“Wait.” Troi looked shocked. “You went through all of this to protect the Enterprise? More specifically, the Captain?”

Q gasped. “I– I already told you that!”

“But that’s why you wanted to join the crew so badly, too. You were trying to help.”

“Yes, and I was still rejected!” Q balled his fists in his lap. “Because you people are so prideful and stubborn! And no matter what I do, he hates me.”

The Counselor didn’t have to ask who “he” was.

“I think,” She said carefully, “You should try being more honest and open. It can be difficult, but I think if the Captain knew you had good intentions, he wouldn’t be so harsh.”

“...I know. I think I’ve been doing better with him lately.”

She smiled. “That’s good. You seem to have trouble distinguishing your emotions sometimes, correct?”

Q sighed. “They all feel so similar sometimes. I admit that I used to have them before becoming human, but they’re stronger now. Before, I didn’t  _ have  _ to make sense of them, either.”

“If it would help, I could tell you the emotions I sense from you.”

“It might,” He said warily.

She was silent for a moment, processing her thoughts. “The anxiety and stress you felt before is still there, but slightly less so. The same can be said for your guilt. And…” She looked at him curiously. “I sense attraction.”

“ _ What? _ ”

“Not towards me, but someone else. I didn’t know you desired romance.”

“I don’t!” He exclaimed. “Your powers must be out of order again, because there is  _ no way  _ I could ever feel love. I don’t need to.”

“I see… Strictly sexual attraction, then?”

“What–! That’s… even more not happening! Not with– I couldn’t and I wouldn’t. There’s nothing appealing about the human body to me.”

“You’re embarrassed.” Her expression was all too knowing.

“Of course I’m embarrassed! How could you ever think that I, Q, would be interested in romantic human companionship?”

“Well, you do have a tendency to flirt on occasion…”

“When did I ever flirt with anyone?” Q demanded.

Troi blinked slowly. “You’re not joking. You didn’t know how your actions came across to everyone else?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, the Captain once reluctantly told me about a time where you trapped him in an escape pod and proceeded to get very touchy.”

“That was a form of intimidation!”

Troi was practically giggling now, and it was infuriating. “I understand. So, the only people who don’t understand that you’ve been flirting with him are you two.”

For once, Q was at a loss for words.

-

Nothing got done at work that day, thanks to his appointment. Not that Q would have been much more productive otherwise, but he was extra distracted today.  _ Do I really have a Thing for him? An interest beyond earning his respect?  _ He groaned.

“Ms. Dr. Crusher,” He addressed her later that day.

“Just ‘Doctor’ is fine, Q, thank you.”

“Doctor,” He repeated, “Is there some kind of exam I could take that would determine whether or not I’m romantically inclined towards someone?”

“Well… no. That’s really more of an emotional thing,” She said patiently.

“Oh no it isn’t! I feel my tiny human heart beat faster than it’s supposed to. And I perspire terribly.”

“Sounds like a regular old crush to me,” She shrugged.

“How is this a normal human experience and not some sort of mental sickness?”

“Because love benefits us,” She told him. “Humans need to love and be loved.”

“Love,” He swallowed. “I wouldn’t call it that. That’s a very big word.”

“Hm. I’m surprised you’ve lowered yourself to feeling anything for us, let alone affection, Q. But you’ve been helping out around here, so I don’t mind having you around.”

“Thanks.” He said flatly. “Hard to get anyone’s approval around here.”

“Well, make sure to let me know if any new symptoms develop.” Like Troi, she seemed to find something about this situation funny.

“Oh, ha ha. Yes, it’s just hilarious how sad I am, isn’t it.”

“What?”

“I’m fully aware how pathetic my feelings are without being mocked at every turn, you know. ‘Q, The Sensitive.’ Laugh it up all you’d like. I’d never let feelings get in the way of my decisions.”

“That’s not it at all.” She looked absolutely baffled. “If I’m teasing you, it’s because you’re  _ endearing. _ Why on Earth would you think otherwise?”

“The Continuum seemed to think it was a riot whenever I was vulnerable, no matter how hard I tried to cover it up.” He said bitterly. “I’m practically an endless source of entertainment.”

“Okay… Q, we don’t do that here. Some humans might actually make fun of you for having feelings, but those humans are just assholes.”

He sighed. “Humans are so soft, though, so innocent. You wouldn’t understand.”

“ _ Humans  _ have been some of the cruelest beings in all of history. Don’t you remember that trial?”

“You mean some people are still like that?”

“Oh yes,” She nodded. “I’ve dealt with quite a few terrible people in my day. I’m sure everybody here has. The point I’m making is that you’re not alone, and believe me, I know it isn’t fun to be ridiculed.”

“I see.” He blinked. “So such yearnings for affection are not considered a shameful part of the human experience?”

“Of course not.”

“Ah. Well, in that case…”

He dashed out of the office, leaving a confused Beverly behind.

“I have a cruuush!” He sang, hopping into his spinny chair.

“We know,” Said a passing medical officer.

“And I am not going to do anything about it!” Q whirled around in place until he was dizzy.

After all, there was no rule that you  _ had  _ to tell people you liked them, was there? It was absolutely none of Picard’s business.

-

And for a few weeks, Q’s life continued on largely uneventfully. The bridge crew seemed to be warming up to him for the most part, although he did get in trouble a few times with Worf. So maybe they made him go to a few classes on Starfleet diversity training.

He was proving more and more to be a helpful asset on missions– not only for the identification of life, but occasionally in social matters as well. After all, being as old as Q was, he learned to pick up a few tells when people were bluffing. He rarely lost at those kinds of games.

It was Tuesday night, which meant the senior officers were playing poker in Riker’s quarters.

“Would you be interested in attending, Q?” Data prodded, after their work for the day was through.

“Me? Oh, I don’t know, Da–… Sir. I wouldn’t want to cause a stir.” Actually, now that he thought about it, causing a stir was one of his favorite pastimes. Perhaps Q should go after all.

“If you insist.”

“Wait a minute now, refusing would just be rude of me. I’d love to come with, Lieutenant. Does Commander Riker know I’m tagging along?”

“He does not.”

“Good, we’ll make it a surprise, then.”

Data raised an eyebrow in confusion, but said nothing else.

Oh, this was going to be fun. It had been too long since Q had been able to cause some good old-fashioned mischief, and he realized now that the itch was killing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this chapter is pretty short too, but I’ve been working a lot lately and I figured posting something was better than nothing. :^P Q is surprisingly hard to write, being such a bundle of mixed emotions.


	6. Chance

Q and Data entered the Commander’s quarters, the former trailing behind his android friend.

“Everyone, I have brought a guest tonight. I hope you do not mind.” Data told them calmly.

Q stepped out from behind him with a shit-eating grin. The only ones who seemed particularly bothered by his arrival, though, were Riker and Worf– and maybe Geordi. It was hard to read his expressions with that visor in the way.

Counselor Troi smiled at him. Q thought that she was much too pleasant to be hanging out with grumpy old Riker all the time. Data pulled up an extra chair, and he sat down.

“Should we go over the rules?” Data offered politely.

“No thank you, I remember how to do this.” Q answered.

As Data dealt the cards, it slowly dawned on Q that he was hardly the only one with an advantage here. He knew Data would be a tough opponent, naturally, but Counselor Troi had the benefit of her empathic powers. Geordi’s visor allowed him to see things nobody else could, like changes in body temperature. This wouldn’t be easy.

He looked at his hand. Two 3s, two 8s, and a 9. He frowned. With the amount of people that were playing, somebody had to have better than two pairs. Still, he raised his chin up high and pretended like he’d just been dealt a straight flush on the first turn.

“I’ll bet ten,” He crowed, pushing a small pile of chips towards the center.

-

Q only won a few times that night, but he succeeded in frustrating Riker, which was, as far as he was concerned, the greatest victory of all. Getting under the Commander’s skin was so satisfyingly easy, but he took care to be subtle. It wouldn’t do to get in trouble now.

Still, this game would have been much more fun if he could still use his powers. Maybe he would have manipulated the outcome to have Worf win every time, just to see the looks on everyone’s faces. A thought occurred to him.

“So, why doesn’t the Captain ever join you to play?” He asked.

“Personally,” Geordi said, “I think it’s because he’s terrible at games of chance and doesn’t wanna lose in front of us.” He had a good-natured smile on his face.

“He has never provided a reason.” Data responded simply. “I do not know.”

Riker sighed. “It’s his own business how he wants to spend his time. Are you guys up for another round?”

“I’m getting a bit tired.” Troi stretched her arms as if to emphasize her statement. “You can all keep playing if you’d like, but I need to wake up early tomorrow…”

Riker stood up. “I can walk you back to your quarters.”

“It isn’t a very long walk.” She grinned. There was a brief silence. “But if you’re offering, I won’t say no.”

He seemed pleased by this, and the two left with Q feeling confused by the interaction.

“Is he coming back?” He asked nobody in particular.

“I believe so.” Data assured him.

“Well. They seem to be very good friends.” Q concluded, although he wasn’t too sure that he would go that far out of his way for a few moments more with one of _his_ friends, save for Picard, of course. “Wait. Is this an example of human courtship?” He balked.

“Quiet down,” Geordi hissed. “I’d tell you not to talk about it at all, but well, I guess pretty much everyone knows about it now…”

“What are you referring to, Geordi?” Data was just as puzzled as Q was.

“I mean that Counselor Troi and Commander Riker really… you know. Like each other.”

“Ah. You mean to imply that their relationship has a degree of romance involved.” Data nodded.

“Exactly.”

“Well if it’s so obvious to you guys, why don’t they just be upfront about it?” Q knit his brow.

“Well, it’s not exactly professional. But if it doesn’t interfere with work, it’s fine by me.” Geordi shrugged. “Besides, I’m not sure they really know how much they mean to each other.”

“Pff, that’s lame.”

“It’s just the way it is.”

Worf looked up from his spot. “I have tried multiple times to urge the Commander to make a move, and he has refused.”

“Really now?” Q raised an eyebrow. “That’s a shame. I could use some love advice where humans are concerned.”

“It’s not as difficult as everyone thinks.” Worf huffed. “If those two would be honest with each other, it would spare a lot of trouble.”

For once, Q agreed with him.

“Wait, Q.” Geordi tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “What do _you_ need love advice for?”

“Hmm? So I can avoid it, of course! I’d hate to give people the wrong idea.” Geordi was staring at him blankly. “What? It’s the truth! It’s been brought to my attention lately that I may have accidentally flirted before. With humans.”

“Right.” He got the distinct feeling that Geordi was rolling his eyes.

Worf shook his head. “You have much to learn.”

Q’s eyes widened. “Would you teach me? Oh, please?”

Worf narrowed his eyes. “Ordinarily, I would refuse. But you are the first to actually ask for my romantic expertise, so I will help you out of pity.”

“Wonderful!” Q pumped his fist in the air in triumph.

“This should be good.” Geordi muttered.

With a soft _beep_ , Riker came back inside the room.

“We playing another round?” He asked, swinging his legs into his seat and shuffling the deck once again.

Everyone dropped the subject at once and went back to playing.

-

He was in some sort of ancient-style Earth house. His mind supplied the word “cottage”, which seemed fitting. Through the windows he could see bright fields that sprawled out in all directions; the natural light from the outdoors fell on the antique wooden furniture inside, giving the room a cozy feeling.

“What are you doing here?” A man said behind him.

He turned around. “Jean-Luc?”

If the Captain had noticed that Q called him by his first name, he didn’t comment on it. “Why are you here?” He rephrased the question.

“I’m not too sure myself. Why, I seem to be lost!” He waited. “Oh! This must be a dream, isn’t it?”

“In all likelihood, yes. One of us must be dreaming.”

“It’s probably me,” Q sighed. “Where are we, anyway?”

“This is my childhood home,” Picard responded, looking a bit wistful. “The Picard family vineyard, out in the French countryside.”

“Ah. That’s a pretty romantic location, wouldn’t you say?”

“Don’t get any ideas, Q.” He warned.

“I thought that when you realize you’re dreaming, you’re supposed to be able to do whatever you want!”

“You aren’t the one who’s dreaming.”

Q gasped.

“How else would you have been able to come to this place?”

“I don’t know… but I _feel_ pretty sentient!”

“Of course you do. Still, I suppose seeing you in my dreams could be a sign.”

Q perked up. “Oh? And what do you think my being here symbolizes for you, Jean-Luc?”

“I don’t know… dreams don’t always make sense, either. This could be an amalgamation of my thoughts throughout the day.”

Q pouted. “Does this mean we’re not going to hold hands, then?”

Picard raised an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose I could humor you, considering none of this is real.”

Q blushed. He hadn’t been expecting that response. But since this was actually _his_ dream, it only made sense, he reminded himself.

“Um…” Q mumbled. “How does this work? Last time you just kind of did it.”

Picard chuckled. “I’ll admit, I am surprised you aren’t asking for anything more. Perhaps I don’t think of you as bold and pushy after all.”

“I’m _so_ bold!” He retorted. “It’s entirely your fault for making me feel things!”

Picard gently grabbed his hand. “There. Are you satisfied?”

Q froze up. “Yes.” He thought he might melt there on the spot.

The other man seemed embarrassed. “Well,” He cleared his throat. “Don’t mention it.”

-

 _Well, that was a weird one._ Q rubbed his eyes. That was the most vivid dream he’d experienced yet. His conversation with the Captain had felt so… oddly realistic, which made his willingness to hold hands all the more flustering to recall.

But no. He shook his head, dismissing his own thoughts. The real Picard was pretty obviously not interested in him that way. Why would he be? Q hugged his pillow, attempting to ease his growing loneliness. Okay, so maybe ignoring romantic feelings didn’t make them go away, but he’d meant it when he called Picard the closest thing in the universe to a friend. And the idea of losing that terrified him more than how much he longed for a deeper connection. _No no, we’re not doing that. That’s final._

After getting ready, he was once again summoned to the ready room– causing Q’s heart to skip a beat. He scolded himself internally and rubbed his face. When he was sure he had properly cleared his head, he went to go meet the Captain.

“ _Mon capitaine_!” He greeted him with affection.

“Q.” There was an almost pleased expression on Picard’s face akin to the Mona Lisa’s smile.

“Well, you seem to be in a good mood. Good news, I hope?”

Picard’s face quickly straightened itself– out of embarrassment, perhaps?– and he nodded. “Q, I believe it’s about time you were promoted.”

“Already? Oh, Jean-Luc, are you feeling well?” He teased.

“It’s ‘Captain’.” He corrected him firmly. “And I’m quite alright, thank you. These past few weeks have been more of a test than anything, and I’d like to have you present on the bridge during our missions as an advisor. Please, just… don’t make me regret this decision, understood?”

Q gave him a military salute. “I wouldn’t dream of it! You won’t be disappointed.”

“Good. I am putting a great deal of trust in you.”

“Y-You trust me?” Q asked, surprised.

“You could say that,” He responded.

“Ah! You know I’m not too good with feelings yet, but I think that makes me feel happy! Pleased as punch, even!” He was embarrassing himself now. _Reign it in a little, Q._ “That, er, means something. A lot… Yes.” _Stop talking._

“Duly noted. Here, this is for you.”

He slid something across the desk. A small, golden object that Q quickly identified as a new pin for his lapel.

“Oh!”

“This identifies you as a junior-grade lieutenant. It’s more of an honorary title than anything, but you should take it nonetheless. I am not at liberty to promote you any further unless you attend Starfleet Academy for official training.”

“That’s fine,” He hummed, happily pinning it to his collar. He couldn’t help but smile, his eyes shining with excitement. “Will I get to go on away missions?”

“In time, most likely.”

Q clasped his hands together, doing all he could to refrain from spinning around. Where did humans put all their excess happy energy, anyway?

He met the other man’s eyes. If Q didn’t know any better, he’d say he looked… thoughtful, maybe? Picard was a hard one to read. Maybe that’s part of why Q always liked him.

“Right!” Q stood up. “I just remembered I made plans with Lieutenant Worf! I have to get going to Ten Forward.”

“Go ahead, you’re dismissed.”

“Thank you!” He exclaimed. “Hopefully I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“Indeed you will.”

Peculiarly, in that moment spent watching the Captain relax in his chair, Q found himself wanting to kiss the other man’s forehead. He was just so _stuffy_ and _grumpy_ that it was cute. But since Q surmised that this action would be inappropriate and poorly received, he realized for the millionth time that life truly wasn’t fair. If he could never show Picard even platonic affection, then there was just no justice in the universe.

Well, there was also the small matter of Picard returning his feelings before such things could ever happen. But that was the biggest obstacle of all. Surely Q could make him stop hating him eventually, though. That was something.

He only had to believe in himself. And how hard could _that_ be?


	7. Lesson

“Oh, Wooooorf! I’m here for my romance education!”

Q glided into the room, spotting the Klingon immediately and making his way over. He plopped into the seat right beside him.

“Something to drink, Q?” Guinan had come by their table.

“Gah!” He yelped, reflexively cowering behind Worf. “What is  _ she  _ still doing here!?”

Worf grunted. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Do any of you fools on this ship even know what El-Aurians  _ are _ , or do you just let anyone on board here?”

“It must be the latter if you’re still here.” Guinan replied coolly. “Again, would you like a drink?”

“Not from you,” Q growled. “I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t poisoned.”

“I’m not as cowardly as you. I respect everyone the Captain wants to keep here. Prune juice for you, Worf?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She walked off, her demeanor far too calm for Q’s liking. Worf fixed him with a steely gaze.

“I do not understand your aggression towards the barkeep,” Worf told him.

“You’d have to have been there 400 years ago,” Q crossed his arms. Worf was still looking at him expectantly. “What?”

“What happened?”

“It’s a long story, full of dramatic twists and turns, but very well. I suppose I’ll enlighten you. Ahem. It was a colorful and undeveloped little planet, where the trees bloomed in every color of the human rainbow and more. Exciting new territory where no Q had gone before– and I would be the very first one to visit it!”

“I thought that your species was supposed to know everything.”

“Well, we knew it was there, but nobody had ever taken the trip there physically. It’s unimaginably far from here, too– it would take you decades to reach in this little ship of yours. At best.”

“Hm.”

“Anyway, it was inhabited by some of the most bizzare little creatures I had ever seen, even by my standards! For carbon-based life forms, anyway. They were these puny bipedal things with a thousand eyes that could fit in the palm of your hand…”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“Hh– stop sneaking up like that!” Q cried. 

Guinan gazed down at him through her lashes. Somehow, she made it seem menacing. “They had 748 eyes each. Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, yes, I was just rounding up,” Q grumbled. “I’m the one telling the story. So, these creatures: let’s just call them Yul after their planet. They’re a playful race, but they’re actually very shy. They would hide if any outsider got too close. In my endeavor to meet them, I encountered the one you call Guinan. And apparently, we both wanted the same thing.

Well… you may find this hard to believe, but I haven’t always been so charming and friendly.”

Worf snorted.

“It’s true! So from what I could tell about her species, I deduced that she was inferior and essentially told her to move along.”

“Mmmm-hm, and there were no threats involved whatsoever.” Guinan rolled her eyes.

“You know I didn’t mean any of that! Where was I? Right. Well, the little Yul actually took quite a liking to me! Eventually they started poking their heads out to see me, and we became… friends. My patience had been rewarded. So I played with them, and I realized I could have fun even with lesser beings! Without tormenting them. They just wanted to swing around on my arms and such. So I guess the witch grew jealous.”

“Really? That’s not how I remember it.” Guinan challenged.

“That’s the drawback of having an IQ of less than 2,000. Well, let’s hear it. What do  _ you  _ remember happening?”

“I was there to protect the Yul. They even asked me to. Said there was a big mean humanoid stomping around, posing a threat to their society.”

“You wish! I never would have hurt them. They knew that. Now, as it turns out, Guinan did have something I didn’t– she could see the future. Her species is rapidly evolving to become omnipotent and immortal, like the Q are. But even we can see only vague outlines of what might be.”

“It’s not an exact science. We just make sure time stays in check, because if something is not meant to be, we feel it.”

“Yes, well. You offered to use this ability to help me, and them, and you betrayed me.”

“It had to happen.” She shook her head. “The Yul never saw you as a friend, they were just going along with what you wanted because they feared you. You just thought of them as pets.”

“That isn’t true. They were my first friends, and you turned them against me.”

Worf interjected. “Wait. Go back and elaborate on how she deceived you.”

“Gladly. She approached me some time later with a proposition: that I help with an overcrowding problem. The Yul didn’t have very advanced technology– they were just in the beginning phases for creating things like motors and lights. They reproduced so quickly, though, and Guinan asked that I might find a new place where they could go. She said she foresaw this as the best solution. But…”

“But? But  _ what _ ?” Worf asked, impatient.

“I don’t know. When I went to go see them and ask about relocating, they reacted rather poorly. They tried to attack me. Not that it was effective, of course, but it was still surprising.” Q looked down. “Guinan showed up soon after to comfort them. I suppose she just wanted me to fail.”

“They knew about you before you arrived,” Guinan told him. “Another species from a nearby planet came to warm them, and I stayed there to protect them from you.”

“I didn’t do anything  _ wrong! _ ” Q snapped. “Not that time! How am I supposed to change if no one will believe me?” He felt his face getting hot.

“You don’t. Because I  _ don’t  _ believe you, Q. You did do wrong on that planet, and it was when you refused to listen to what I had to say after you arrived. You were too arrogant to think I could possibly be worth hearing, and so I proceeded.”

“I got in trouble with the Continuum again after all of that, you know. Accused of terrorizing another lower species when I only wanted to explore. It probably led to their decision to kick me out.” He glared. “I’m sorry I hurt your precious feelings, but another powerful being stopping me on an innocuous planet felt like a threat.”

“Q, the day I hear a sincere apology from you, I know it’ll be the end of the universe. Let me know if I can get you something to cool down.” Saying that, she finally left.

He studied the table in front of him. “The nerve…”

Worf looked like he was pondering to himself. “It sounds more like a petty disagreement than anything else.”

“Trust me, that wasn’t the last I heard from her. For the next two centuries, we just kept running into each other. She never could let me have any fun.”

“That story was pointless.” Worf huffed.

“Excuse me?”

“Miscommunications are for cowardly beings. Facing your rival and truthfully stating your intent will never steer you wrong. Perhaps my courtship advice will help you to avoid future unnecessary conflicts.”

“That seems harsh, don’t you think?”

“No. You are irritating by nature.” Q was incredulous. Appalled, even. “But you are not beyond hope. Come.” He raised himself from his chair. Q followed suit.

“Where are we going, good buddy old pal?” Q attempted a playful nudge but was met with a grimace in return.

“Find a suitable target.”

“Do what now?”

“Look around.” He gestured towards all the people in the lounge. “You must find someone that ignites your desire.”

“Oh… oh no, Worf, I believe you misunderstand the purpose of my being here–“

“It is you who misunderstands.”

“Pardon me,” Data said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “Is this where the romance education class is being offered?”

Q and Worf briefly stared at him.

“What makes you so interested?” Q asked.

“Much,” Data replied. “Romance is a fascinating experience to observe. There is a possibility that someday, such knowledge could be useful to me.”

“Why, Lieutenant-Commander, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a hopeless romantic.”

Data frowned. “I do not agree with that statement. I am far from beyond hope.”

“Oh, no, I just mean… eh, never mind.” Q shrugged. “It looks like you have two pupils now, Mr. Lieutenant Worf.”

“Yes. Commander–“

“Is that the right title? I’ve just been saying ‘lieutenant-commander’ to avoid getting it wrong, but I honestly thought if anything it was just–“

“Quiet. Commander, please find someone suitable to practice these techniques on.”

Data tilted his head to the side. “But my intended recipient is not present.”

“You have an  _ intended recipient _ ?” Q gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me? I want to know who it is!”

“If you are curious, I may confide in you later.”

“Of course I’m curious. We’re friends, aren’t we? I’ve always wanted to gossip with someone.” Q grinned.

“Yes, we are friends.”

Hearing Data say it out loud delighted him.

“It’s up to you, then, Q.” Worf continued as if he hadn’t heard anything.

“Who, me? Um…” He looked around. Truth be told, he wasn’t often  _ attracted  _ to humans so much as appreciative of their looks. Picard was… well, Picard was a special case. “Should it be a woman?”

“It does not matter.” Worf replied.

“Oh, really?”

“I see no reason why it should.”

“That’s surprisingly accepting of you. Alright, let’s see…” If he liked Picard, then he probably liked men, so he could start from there.

“I am not asking for you to select a lifelong mate,” Worf snarled. “It is just  _ practice. _ ”

“Okay, okay! I’m thinking.” Someone caught his eye. A slightly younger-looking man was sitting alone at a table in the corner, leisurely sipping from his cup. “How about him?”

“Fine,” Worf wasn’t even looking. “I will give you your first assignment. Even your subtlest of movements can be used to your advantage. Try to make yourself seem larger and stronger.”

“Oh?”

“But you must also show restraint. Be respectful, but put yourself into the mind of someone who is powerful and worthy of respect. Showing that you are a formidable opponent will intrigue your potential partner. Introduce yourself to that man and then come back.”

“If you say so,” Q said nervously. Human courtship sure sounded primitive.

He strode his way over to the man on the other side of the bar, sitting next to him without saying a word. Remembering Worf’s advice, he stretched out awkwardly in an attempt to take up space.

“Hi.” Q smirked.

The other man seemed apprehensive. “H-Hi. You’re Q, right…?”

“That I am. And you are?”

“Lieutenant Barclay.” He mumbled.

“Ah, I’ve heard of you!” Q was trying to keep his chest puffed out for as long as he could. “You’re in Engineering, are you not?”

“Yeah.”

He was so quiet. Was Worf’s technique working?

“I, ah, couldn’t help but notice you were by yourself,” Q flashed him a smile.

“I usually am.”

“Don’t suppose you’d enjoy some company?” Q didn’t know if he was sounding friendly or flirtatious. 

“I’m good… Uh, thanks.”

“Hoho,” Q chuckled, flexing his arms. “Well, you know where to find me.”

He retreated back to the safety of his table.

“I’m not sure that went very well,” Q admitted.

Data tried to encourage him. “What is important is that you tried.”

Worf had a strange look on his face. “If I had known you wanted to talk to Lieutenant Barclay, I may have suggested another strategy.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Q waved it off, but he could feel himself warming in embarrassment.

“If it is any consolation,” Data told him, “I did interpret your behavior as romantic in nature.”

“So I  _ am  _ learning the difference, after all!” Q sighed in relief. “Flirting has to be intentional, yes? There’s no way I could have done it by accident.”

“I guess,” Said Lieutenant Worf.

-

Q was to start working on the bridge tomorrow. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a little anxious; apparently that was a common reaction to new experiences, though. He would simply make sure he looked his best tomorrow.

“Computer.” He said aloud. “Question: humans aren’t able to easily modify their molecular structure, right?”

“Elaborate.” Was the reply.

“In terms of altering physical attributes. I’m under the impression that a body’s look is semi-permanent.”

“Correct. To change appearance, people may go through surgeries or special treatments. More minor changes can be accomplished through the application of beauty products.”

“How dreadfully inconvenient. If they decide they want a certain body type, they have to  _ wait  _ for it?” 

He looked down at his own body, worrying if he made the right decision. He felt comfortable enough (as much as he could be, anyway), but maybe a different sex would have been more appealing? Did people like the way he looked now?

_ That doesn’t matter,  _ he told himself.  _ Since when did I care so much about what humans think of me? The only reason I appeared like this at all was because my true form was too beautiful to comprehend! _ He straightened up, putting his hands on his hips.  _ And I’d say this is as close as it gets. _

Satisfied with his pep talk, he drew himself a hot bath.  _ Still, I will  _ miss  _ getting to copy whoever I want… _ Maybe he’d put on a bit of makeup before work tomorrow, just to make himself feel even more attractive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many characters can I cram into this story? I didn’t mean for this to happen, but TNG has such interesting characters... sorry for the lack of P/Q in this chapter, but the next one should satisfy you. ;^)


	8. Role

Q exited the turbolift with a swaggering walk. He didn’t mean to brag, but he looked  _ stunning  _ today. He watched a few Vulcan makeup tutorials the night before, and it was paying off big time.

Data greeted him normally, but a few of his other superiors seemed to notice. He supposed the eyeshadow was a little on the darker side, but what could he say? He liked the dramatic effect, and he felt pretty.

“Lieutenant Q reporting,” he declared, and then realized he didn’t know where to stand. “Captain, where is my spot?”

Upon turning towards him, Picard’s eyes widened. The change in expression was then quickly corrected, and he folded his hands behind his back. 

“Over here,” He gestured with his hand, leading Q back behind the main seats. “Stay put.”

“Yessir.”

“Did you read the briefing you were sent on today’s mission?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good. Ensign Crusher, set a course for the planet Hyllan. Argus sector.”

The boy took a few moments to type it in. “Course plotted, sir.”

“Engage.”

Q was internally giddy. He  _ said  _ it! He said the thing!

Q found that he underestimated how long it would take to get there. He always just assumed that these trips occurred in the blink of an eye, but apparently it would be a few minutes, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do until then. Never one to stand still, he found himself wandering around and looking at the various display screens. Wait– Picard had specifically told him to stay put. He couldn’t just meander around!

“We’re in orbit around Hyllan now, Captain.”

_ Finally.  _ He stood proudly in the exact spot he was told to be.

“Open communications. Lieutenant Worf, send a message informing them of our arrival.” Picard ordered.

“Captain,” the Klingon responded. “We are being hailed.”

Picard raised an eyebrow. “On screen.”

There was a Hyllan in what Q guessed to be formal clothing for their society. He hadn’t seen one in ages– they rarely left their homeworld. They had red lobster-like exoskeletons that protruded outward in spikes, and as a result their clothing was minimal, used to denote rank rather than provide comfort or modesty. Their warriors often wore claw-like gauntlets; the one on screen was wearing two apparently made of gold. Appendages by its mouth made it difficult for it or any other Hyllan to speak Terran languages, so typically the Universal Translator took care of everything when communications were needed.

Sadly, with a nearby star on the brink of collapse, Hyllan itself would be destroyed in approximately 48 hours. The _Enterprise’_ s mission was to assist a few other ships in transporting the Hyllan population to a nearby starbase where they would be safe.

“Captain Picard, I presume.” Its voice was strained and gruff.

“Yes.” He gestured by touching his fists together in front of his chest, forming a W-shape. “Emperor Khiztek. It is an honor to meet you. Are your citizens prepared to beam up?”

“It seems we have no choice.” There was a note of sorrow in the words. “Did you receive our requests for accommodations?”

“Indeed. A large number of rooms have been prepared to suit your environmental needs. When are the other ships arriving?”

“I do not know, Captain. The  _ Enterprise  _ is the first to have come.”

“That should not be. Mr. Data, please scan the surrounding area for other Starfleet ships. Maximum range.”

A few moments passed. “Nothing, sir.”

“I suppose we are a little early…” Picard said nervously. “Very well. Let’s wait here awhile until the others get here.” He motioned for the video to be cut off.

Picard’s worried expression was crinkling his nice face. It wouldn’t be out of bounds if he simply tried to cheer him up, would it? For the good of his health?

He approached the other man’s side. “You worry far too much,” He purred. “Even when things go awry, remember that  _ you  _ still make it through every single time. You’ll find a way. So just enjoy the adventure.”

Q realized that it sounded a little more genuine than he meant it to– he was going for teasing, and he ended up gently comforting.  _ Eh, whatever works. _

Picard looked at him strangely. Q had to admit, that was justified. He was anything  _ but  _ comforting on most occasions. Oh no, was he standing too close? He took one step to the side, trying to remember what he knew about human boundaries.

Picard looked at the floor for some reason. 

“Thank you, Mr. Q.” He said quietly, before swiveling back towards the rest of his crew. Just like that, he was back into work mode. “Keep communications open in case we receive a message.”

“Yes, sir.” Said Worf.

-

It was two hours later.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Picard told the room. There had been an emergency meeting of all senior staff, plus Q.

“Well, first off, I think we should broadcast an SOS,” Riker offered. “There might be Federation allies nearby who can help.”

Picard nodded. “Make it so.”

Data spoke next. “Our next course of action may be to start transporting as many of the Hyllans back and forth in order to save as many lives as possible.”

Picard exhaled through his nose. “Yes… We would not be able to rescue all of them that way, but it would be better than nothing. Still, I’d like to stay put for another hour until we can think of more alternatives. ...I don’t want to tell the Emperor that some of their people will die unless we can be certain.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Anyone else?” Picard asked. When he was met with silence, his shoulders slumped a bit. “Keep working on solutions. I’m going to my ready room to make a few calls.”

Q wished he could help more. He knew he probably could, he just had to think.

-

Picard held his face in his hand. “We’re out of time for waiting. But what’s truly strange is that I could find no record of this mission being assigned except for the one in our files. It’s possible that somewhere, somebody made a deadly error and only sent the instructions to us– but I find that highly unlikely. I even asked Admiral Lee, who was supposedly the one to have sent the original request, but he denied ever hearing of such a thing.”

Data spoke up. “Sir, if I may.”

“Go ahead, Mr. Data.”

“I have analyzed the closest stars to Hyllan. None of them appear to be unstable.”

“Really.” Picard stroked his chin.

Q’s eyes narrowed. “I have a bad feeling about this, Jean– Captain. We should leave.”

“Lieutenant Q, if there has been an attempt to harm Starfleet personnel or property, it is my duty to expose it. Besides, you said it yourself that we ‘always make it through’.”

“Yes, because you make smart decisions…” Q shifted nervously.

“I agree with Q,” Deanna said. “This feels like a trap. We need to proceed with caution.”

“Acknowledged.” Picard replied. “But we cannot be so quick to blame the Hyllans. For all we know, this could very well have been a third party’s attempt to thwart our rescue. Someone with a grudge, perhaps. It doesn’t matter right now. We should begin by evacuating the children from Hyllan just in case.”

“The children?” Q asked.

“Most mortals place immense value on the lives of children, especially their own. I imagine the Hyllans have similar priorities, but we will ask.”

Something still seemed suspicious, but Q couldn’t base this premise on anything but his own feelings. Even a Q could be wrong by those standards, so he assumed that went tenfold for people. The group made their way back to the bridge.

“Hail the Hyllan Emperor.”

“Aye, sir.” The boy at the control station established the connection.

“Emperor Khiztek,” Picard greeted him once again with a Hyllan salute. “We have what may potentially be good news.”

“Let us hear it,” The creature spoke.

“Our scanners have been unable to detect any impending supernovas in this area. However, we will still help evacuate your people if you wish.”

“What do you mean, you could not detect a dying star? Do you see the way my people gasp for air, sweltering with heat? We are being cooked alive.”

Q gasped. “That’s it–! Captain, you can’t beam any of them on board. We’d be playing right into their trap.”

“Whose?” Picard demanded.

“...Okay, I don’t know that part yet. But! I do know that long ago, Hyllans were sometimes  _ eaten  _ by other species. Barbaric, I know.”

“How do we know that’s not a bad joke, Q?” Riker folded his arms.

“Let’s hear him out,” Picard responded.

“Ah, let’s see. Well… the preferred method of preparation for this species was… boiling them. Alive. Supposedly it preserved the flavor best that way.”

“Q, you never…?” Troi asked.

“Of course not! I never ate  _ anything,  _ let alone sentient things.” He made a face. “It was just another example I was taught of why mortals are savages. Not that I think so anymore, of course! Ahahaha.” He probably didn’t sound very convincing.

“Why didn’t you tell us this earlier, Lieutenant?” Riker asked.

“I didn’t think that little fun fact was relevant at the time. It was sort of buried in my memories, too. It can take a while to remember things when you’re as old as I am, you know.”

“Uh-huh.”

“If I meant to hide it, I wouldn’t be telling you now.” Q scowled.

“Unless you just wanted to play with us. But of course, you’d never do that.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

“That’s enough,” Picard barked. “We are adults. If necessary, I will confine the two of you together to sort out your differences.”

They both shut up after that.

“ _ Ahem. _ ” The Hyllan Emperor reminded them that it was still very much here.

“My sincere apologies, Emperor. We will defer to your judgment in this matter.” Picard apologized.

“Yes,” It hissed. “If it is as you say, then we cannot risk beaming up any of our own. It sounds like that is what our enemies want, after all.”

“How do you wish to proceed?”

“Please find out who manipulated our observation logs and faked the results. Any medical assistance or security you can spare would be greatly appreciated.”

“It will be done,” Said Picard. “Picard out. Number One, prepare an away team to beam down.”

“Hold on just a minute,” Q stopped him. “Don’t you think this whole thing is sloppily done?”

Picard thought for but a moment, deciphering the vague statement. “I believe I know just what you mean, Mr. Q.”

Riker nodded in agreement.

“Why would they assume that the  _ Enterprise  _ was too stupid to notice when no other ships were here?” Q asked. “They can’t have expected us to simply proceed with our probably-fabricated orders.”

“Fabricated or not, though, the Hyllans  _ do  _ seem to be in genuine pain.” Picard mentioned.

“Seconded,” Troi said. “I sense much tension. The Emperor is truly afraid. Of what, I cannot say.”

Picard tensed. “This puts us in a difficult position. They could be counting on us to send an away team down. Any speculation as to our enemy’s identity, Q?”

“Well, we know they have no qualms against semi-cannibalism, assuming they’re also humanoid. They might be scheming against us, but their wits seem woefully beneath ours. They think they’re sneaky, whoever they are. I’d say Ferengi, but I don’t recall any of them ever consuming Hyllan flesh…” Q babbled on. Figuring things without his omnipotence was so much harder, and it was getting frustrating.

It must have registered on his face, because Picard said “No, that is a good idea. Suppose there was a market for this sort of product.”

Q perked up. “Oh?”

“Though I believe even most Ferengi have higher moral standards, there are beings out there who are truly evil. This… may be one of those cases.”

Q thought about the Borg. “Yes. Please keep that sentiment in mind.”

“Our away team will be extremely limited, and we will take every precaution. Mr. Data, what is the current temperature average on the planet’s surface?”

“104 degrees, sir.”

“Uncomfortable, but not yet deadly. Number One, Commander Data, and Lieutenant LaForge– you will beam down to find more information. Tread lightly.”

The three of them left to go get ready. Q looked at his Captain expectantly.

“There’s little we can do for now,” Picard told him. “We can only assist the landing party from here.”


	9. Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s a bit shorter than normal, because I figured it’s been long enough since the last update– hopefully this is a fun one for you guys, though!

“Captain, I believe I have located the source of the increasing temperature.” Data’s voice crackled slightly over the bridge intercom.

“What is it, Mr. Data?”

“Unsure at the moment, sir. I have pinpointed a location, but we do not know the cause.”

“Understood. How are the others?”

Riker spoke. “Just fine, Captain. Could go for some ice cream down here, though.”

“Don’t spend any more time than you need to,” Picard commanded. “Try to determine the cause and prepare to start beaming Hyllans aboard.”

“Yes, sir. Riker out.”

Despite the check-in going well, it was only about an hour before Worf was alerting them that something was wrong. “We have lost Commander Data’s signal,” He reported.

“ _ Enterprise  _ to away team. Where is Mr. Data?” Picard said urgently.

“We’re being surrounded!” Riker’s panicked response filled the room with immediate tension. “They’ve taken Data. I count at least six humanoids, all wearing protective gear– I can’t identify what they are!”

“Transporter room, prepare to beam up–“

“They’re– we can’t–“ Riker failed to explain. The sounds of struggling and pained grunts were all that remained on the line.

Picard crossed to the front of the room. “Computer, go to yellow alert. Transporter room, prepare to beam down another away team.”

“Aye, sir,” Came the reply.

“I will personally lead this mission. Worf, come with me. And–“ He turned and looked at Q, as if trying to decide something. “And Q. We need to get down there as soon as possible. You will join us as well.”

Q wished these were different circumstances. On any other occasion, he would have been excited to go on his first surface mission. But with the others in trouble, he couldn’t bring himself to do so much as crack a joke; things had been going south ever since they entered Hyllan’s orbit. He found himself wondering if he was up to the task. What could Q possibly do once they were down there?

Picard handed him a phaser.  _ Oh, okay. I can do that part. _ He turned it over in his hands, enjoying the weight in his palms. It felt dangerous, and extremely fun.

They got to the transporter room as quickly as possible and stood on the panels. Q realized suddenly that he had never used one of these before, and for the thought was making him  _ very  _ frightened. How did these things work? Was he going to be dematerialized? How often did accidents happen?

“Energize,” Said Picard.

“Wait!” Q yelped, clinging on to the Captain for dear life.

He was too late, however– a bizarre rushing sensation swept over his body, and for a moment he could see nothing but a blinding light. He pinched his eyes shut until the feeling passed, clutching Picard’s arm so tightly that it probably hurt. He didn’t know why a fragile thing like a human could make him feel safe. It must have been his human instincts.

“You may let go now, Mr. Q.”

Q jerked himself back. “Right.”

There was a twinkle in the Captain’s eye.

“What’s so funny?” Q crossed his arms.

Word answered the question. “Your uncharacteristic display of cowardice.”

“Not cowardice!” He protested. “Don’t you know how unreliable human technology is? All of you should have been worried!”

“We’ve never had any problems,” Picard told him, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Now. Let’s find ourselves someplace out of view, preferably with a bit of shade.”

Q nodded. Worf had his tricorder out, working on something as they walked.

“The place where the landing party disappeared is to the northeast of us, Captain.” Worf informed him.

“How far?”

“Almost 1,500 feet.”

“Let us proceed quietly. Set phasers to maximum stun.”

“How do I do that?” Q whispered.

“I granted you the rank of Junior Lieutenant before teaching you how to use one of these?” Picard muttered. “Someone should have shown you, anyway. Give it here.”

He pressed a few buttons and gave it back to Q, who quietly thanked him. The group silently made their way towards the coordinates Worf provided, ducking underneath buildings and rock for cover. The city’s architecture with its towering, gray buildings reminded Q of ancient Earth.

Picard and Worf were both sweating quite a bit, their steps not as quick as normal. Q feared that whoever the enemy was, they might very well have the advantage. What was it with the  _ Enterprise _ and biting off more than they could chew?

Picard shushed him and Worf, but neither of them had been speaking. The group then froze what they were doing, listening for the slightest disturbance.

“...Should have just killed them, why didn’t we just kill them?” A peculiar voice could be made out from a few buildings down.

“Then they never would have taken the Hyllans onboard, idiot.”

“That part of the plan obviously isn’t going to work now. Also, that hurts my feelings.”

“...Sorry. Just stop questioning everything and wait until Harry gets back with us.”

“Fine, but this is getting boring.”

After that, it seemed unlikely that they were going to eavesdrop upon any more information– so Worf quickly started looking for the heat source Data discovered earlier.

“We are close, sir.” Worf stage-whispered.

“Any life signs close to the two that are up ahead of us?”

“Not for another 500 feet. If we could lure those two creatures elsewhere, we might be able to question them.”

“It’s time to put your improvisational skills to work, Q. Come with me.”

He sent Worf some unspoken message, and he seemed to understand it perfectly. Q wasn’t surprised to find that he was one of those leaders who could communicate information to his crew with a single glance. Worf stayed behind while the other two retraced their steps. They settled back behind a crumbling wall.

“Alright. Create a distraction.”

“Who, me? Now _that_ I can do, _mon capitaine._ ” He cleared his throat. “Oh, somebody help me! Do something!” He cried.

This caught the attention of the guards, who jogged over to investigate, but they still weren’t quite close enough for Worf to make his move.

“Please, anybody!” He bellowed, sounding not unlike a distressed Victorian maiden. “There’s been a terrible accident!”

Once the two creatures had been lured closer, Worf surprised them by stunning one and tackling the other to the ground with ease.

-

“Begin telling us your plans.” Worf had managed to restrain the guard that was still conscious and was looming over him. He removed the creature’s mask when there was no response– and it was a Ferengi after all.

“Eep!” He squeaked. “I don’t know, I just work here!”

“You lie. Who is your leader?” Worf questioned.

“Um… just don’t kill me, okay? It’s a human guy who goes by the name Harry. He needed our technology so he could snatch up these Hyllans and sell them to the highest bidder. Ugh, it’s hot out here…”

“Go on.”

“I might as well tell you. There are also distress beacons built into our suits here!” He laughed as he pressed something inside his sleeve. “You’ll be served up with the rest of them!”

Footsteps were coming their way, and fast. Q was pulled along by Picard while Worf punched the Ferengi and fled elsewhere. With so many open streets, there were few places to hide.

“Over there!” Q hissed, motioning towards an alleyway. Picard nodded, still guiding Q by the wrist. They ducked into the shady space between buildings, hoping the spot would go unnoticed by their pursuers. It was a tight fit, and Q struggled to squeeze his way around a corner. They were hidden from plain sight now.

Hurried footsteps grew closer and louder, then began to quiet down again as they passed.

“What about this way?”

_ Shit. _

In a swift motion, Picard was pressing him flush against the brick wall, holding absolutely still. Q’s heart was hammering against his chest. He could feel the other man’s breath against his neck. Sometimes Q forgot how much taller he was than his captain; he was acutely aware of it now. A few seconds passed, and yet they felt more like hours.

The strange humanoid looked around the dirty paths, but miraculously avoided the spot Picard and Q were wedged behind. They waited until the footsteps were no longer audible, and Q sighed in relief. Picard slowly removed himself, looking to the side.

“I think we’ve evaded them for now.”

They were still so  _ close.  _ Q couldn’t manage to think at the moment without thinking about emotions, so he didn’t think at all. He just stayed leaning against the wall with his mouth agape. Then he realized how unnatural he looked and swallowed.

“Yeah,” He managed. “Good thinking.”

If he could just keep his voice steady, everything else his body was doing would look like a result of the temperature outside and not his own panicking.

“What now, Captain?” He breathed.

Picard looked almost sheepish. Or, no, it must have just been the heat.

“We get out of here.” He answered.


End file.
